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31. A MISTRESS
STORM’S P.O.V.
“You try.” I knocked Amar’s shoulder, holding back the laugh forcing it’s way through me.
The fighting ring shook as he fell down, heaving and wetting it with his sweat. A towel was thrown my way. I wiped but I could feel the sweat clog my pores. It had been one of the best fights I had in there. Amar was a good opponent, my most trusted guard.
Most of the men were walking away from the ring, the show over, but you could feel the buzz.
“ Good one boss.”
“ Next time can we spur, boss?”
“ That kick came from nowhere boss.”
It did something to my ego as some of my men circled as I jumped out of the ring.
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